Mr Timn and Pinkie
by Agamer
Summary: This is a crackfic for my other story, In the Middle of Chaos.


This is cannon to Chapter 2 of In the Middle of Chaos.

This is just an explanation for Pinkies behavior in this chapter.

Mr. Timn is the orange pony mentioned in the first paragraph of chapter 2.

This takes place during the 'explanation' to Twilight.

Mr. Timn belongs to Julian Smith.

Based off: (/watch?v=h0pC8-R33zk) and (/watch?v=pac6VwyPAws)

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**Narrator is bold.**  
_Mr. Timn is italicized._  
Pinkie is underlined.  
Actions are plain.

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**Pinkie washed the dishes like she did every morning, only this time, she'd be visited by non-other than Mr. Timn.**

_Salutations._

Who are you?

Mr. Timn pulls out a sandwich.

_Fancy a sandwich?_

I don't think so, I just ate...

_It's a fancy sandwich._

I'm not quite hungry, I really...

_Cilantro, Salad, Sauce or Soup from Cincinnati?_

**Mr. Timn always liked words with lots of S sounds.**

How did you get behind Sugarcube Corner?

_I live back here, Princess Big Foot._

You live behind Sugarcube Corner?

_Do you live in Candy Land?_

No, but I live in a gingerbread house.

_Ever wonder why Candy Castle is made out of icecream instead of candy?_

Not really.

_Me neither, but now I really want to know what they're up to in there._

**Pinkie was trying not to blurt out a hundred miles an hour to this strange new pony.**

What's you name?

_Mr. Timn._

Tim?

_Timn, with an 'N'_

Timn

_Mister_

Mr. Timn

_Mister Master_

Look, um, I should really get back to my dishes.

_How am I supposed to know if you're a stallion when you're washing dishes like a mare then? Heh! Think about it, makes sense._

I am a mare.

_I'm indecisive, I'll get back to you on that._

**Mr. Timn raises his hooves, ready for a duel.**

You want to fight me, through the window?

_Come on pretty filly, lets get physicals._

I think you mean, lets get physical.

_After we get physical, filly, your gonna need a physical, filly._

I'm confused. Ooh, look, pie.

Pinkie trots over to a counter and picks up a pie and trots back.

Want some pie?

_Why would I want pie?_

This is why.

Pinkie smashes the pie into Mr. Timn's face and starts laughing.

Mr. Timn poses with his pie covered face.

_You wanna draw a picture, send it to someone close, not in proximity but in relation?_

I don't know.

_Do you have a mail mare?_

Ya.

_Does she come on Tuesdays?_

No.

_It's a pity, I could really go for a mail... mare._

Why are you in my window?

_Can I get you bathroom?_

No, you cannot use my bathroom.

_How 'bout your dryer? I'm soaking wet._

I'm looking right at you, you're not wet, albeit covered in pie.

_How can I tell you're looking right at me?  
How do I know you're not just grazing my shoulder with that eyeball of yours?_

Mr. Timn reaches through the window and grabs Pinkie.

_You listen here, filly._

What are you doin'?

_Today's the day your gonna die._

Oh no.

_Did you know that?_

No.

_Did you wake up this morning, wash your hooves, and think to yourself, 'Gee, I bet I'm gonna die today?'_

No!

_And if you did, well, I've got to ask you, why did you use that soap?_

But I like that soap.

_When you only got one day to live, you better use some nice soap._

**She wouldn't admit it, but Pinkie knew that for such an occasion she should have used better soap.**

_You're in my place now!_

Pinkie groans, trying to escape his grip.

_And my place, well, that's one place you don't want to be. You wanna know why?_

Why?

_You don't wanna know, you wanna know why?_

Why?

_You don't wanna know, you wanna know why?_

Tell me, why?

_'Cause I ain't showered in weeks._

Pinkie groans in disgust.

**It was at that moment when Mr. Timn heard something he could not believe.**

_Do you hear that?_

Wha?

_It's a group of ponies blowing their noses together._

In the distance, a bunch of ponies are seen blowing their noses together.

Ya, I do hear that.

_I wanna go to that party, mare._

OK.

_And I'm gonna get me to that party, mare!_

Mr. Timn releases Pinkie, throwing her to the ground.

Mr. Timn runs off to the road and gets run over by a runaway cart.

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**R.I.P Mr. Timn  
?-2012**

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_**I WROTE THIS FOR YOU!**_


End file.
